Charlotte sat with her eyes downcast, considering his words. He had not been harsh, yet she felt like bursting into tears. His advice had been clear and to the point and was the very last thing she wished tothink on just now. But, she found she could not brush aside his words. Slowly, a feeling of shame crept over her—shame for not fully appreciating all that her sister and Reginald were doing for her. Shame for not making more of an effort. Was she truly so thoughtless and ignorant? She felt like a child, being scolded for bad manners at the table.
Still, she could think of no reply and fortunately the mood was broken by Dorothea entering the room.
“Gracious—it took two chapters and a song before Lucy would let me go. Have our guests arrived yet?”
“No, but they should be here any minute. It is nearly half-six,” Reginald said, rising and crossing to his wife to kiss her. “You look beautiful, Dorothea.”
“Oh, dearest, you are too sweet. An almost thirty-year-old married lady such as myself should give over thinking of her own beauty when there is one much younger and prettier in the room.” She turned and smiled at Charlotte. “Yes, the white and gold was absolutely the right choice for tonight, my dear. You look divine. I am certain Mr. Morton will be entranced.”
Charlotte nodded, unsure for a moment that she could reply with a voice that would not betray her emotions. She swallowed, then forced a smile. “We shall see, but I do hope so, Dorothea. I wish to thank you—and you as well, Reginald—for all you have done and continue to do for me. I shall try my best not to disappoint you.”
Dorothea gave Charlotte a curious look and opened her mouth to speak, but the door opened, and Dawson announced their guests.
*
As expected, Mr.Robert Morton was once again seated at Dorothea’s right, while Frederick was seated farther down the table, closer to Reginald. Unlike last time, when Charlotte sat across from him, shewas placed on Robert’s right this evening. Dorothea had tut-tutted over the seating as they took their places, apologizing sweetly for the unbalance in numbers.
“Once again, we are not even in partners. I wouldn’t have minded had you asked to bring a gentle lady of good breeding with you, Mr. Frederick. Then, we would not be so awkwardly situated.”
“I have no such lady to invite, Lady Gillingham, and I certainly would never presume to do so,” he replied, gently. “Perhaps I should have simply remained at Brentwood this evening.”
“No!” blurted Charlotte. Everyone turned to stare at her. After an awkward pause, she laughed a bit and added, “This is just a family dinner, after all, not anything fancy with endless courses. Our seating is nothing to be concerned about, Dorothea. The Mortons are your neighbors, and I am sure we need not worry about such strict formalities.”
She caught a grateful expression on Frederick’s countenance and wished she were sitting next to him. She would prefer not to have to focus all her attention on the older, wealthier brother. But, Reginald’s lecture had taken root. She nodded slightly to Frederick and then turned her attention to Robert as the first course was served.
“How go the crops on your estate, Mr. Morton? I believe I overheard Reginald speaking of the lack of rain as a worry.”
He looked at her and she saw amusement in his eyes. “Yes, it is a small concern. But, tell me—is that the sort of thing young ladies are interested in these days? I confess, I find myself both flattered and somewhat astonished at your choice of subject matter.”
Charlotte felt a blush creep up her throat and dropped her gaze. “Well, every gentleman who owns land must spend considerable time thinking about such things, does he not?” Why did she feel annoyed? He had not been rude. “Should you prefer me to ask your opinion on the newest fashions or what ribbons might complement my complexion best you have but to speak and I shall change the topic mostreadily,” she replied tartly, turning her attention back to her soup.
To her surprise, he laughed softly. “I would scarce hold myself an expert in such things, Miss Kendall. Not simply because I am an unmarried man with no sisters and quite uneducated in these regards, but also because I can see before me a picture of beauty that requires no alteration whatsoever.”
His unexpected compliment made Charlotte nearly choke on a spoonful of soup. As she coughed and brought her napkin to her lips, she glanced at her sister. Dorothea wore an expression of pure satisfaction.
*
That night inher room, Charlotte sat up late, replaying the evening’s events. She found herself quite puzzled by Mr. Morton’s more agreeable behavior. He had never been so charming and amiable at previous encounters. Tonight, he had complimented her dress, her performance on the pianoforte, and even mentioned knowing of her interest in painting and expressed a wish to someday see some of her sketches. Yet, unlike Mr. Wincock and Mr. Cartwright, he was not so effusive in his praise as to make her uncomfortable. His compliments were appropriate and measured and, although unexpected, they felt…sincere.
It had been a pleasant evening overall, and she hoped her sister noticed her effort to be charming. She paid most of her attention to Robert and was unable to speak at length with Frederick, even when the gentlemen joined her and Dorothea in the drawing room after dinner. Their longest encounter came when, as a capable music reader, he had offered to turn the pages for her when she played. Then, while sifting through the music, he leaned in and murmured that he was looking forward to their painting lesson on Tuesday. She had nodded her assent. Then, Reginald had called Frederick over todiscuss a new book he had ordered. Robert had moved to replace his brother at the piano, saying he would be happy to turn pages, though Charlotte would have to nod to tell him when to do so as his musical abilities were minimal. And there he stayed for the next twenty minutes, trying to turn the pages on her cues and praising her skill. She found herself pleased and flattered at his gentlemanly behavior. And yet, she was still puzzled. Such a change in his behavior made her wonder—was she seeing the true Mr. Morton now?
Although her initial preference had been for the younger brother, Mr. Robert Morton might not be the rude beast she had initially thought. Perhaps she had been too quick to judge the gentleman and her prejudice had prevented her from seeing him clearly.
Charlotte climbed into bed still thinking over how amiable his company had been. Was she wrong to think he had enjoyedhercompany as well? Or that his manner toward her was sincere? After all, he had no need to show any admiration of her beyond what courtesy demanded—she had no fortune to tempt him, even if he needed one, which he clearly did not. He must truly admire her—at least a little.
She gave herself a little shake.
Heavens, I must not let my imagination run away with me. I shall be as bad as Dorothea, ordering the wedding clothes after one pleasant evening with Mr. Morton. Most likely he still feels guilty over the riding incident and is merely trying to make amends as a good neighbor should and nothing more. I must not get my expectations up for anything further—it clearly would be too foolish.
Vowing to put the man out of her mind as a prospective match, Charlotte leaned over, blew out the candle, and soon fell asleep.
Chapter Fifteen
The same eveningthat Charlotte was puzzling over Mr. Morton’s unexpectedly charming ways, Robert was having one last brandy in his study as he also recalled the dinner party he had just left. He had found Miss Kendall rather warm and pleasant company. She must finally have forgiven him for his reckless ride which had caused her to lose her seat. Indeed, although he still found her manners a bit spirited for a single lady—she was certainly free with her opinions—it was not unpleasant to be in her company. And, was she now trying to even charm him a bit? She had laughed easily at all his witticisms and held eye contact more than she ever had before. Quite a change from their first dinner at Haverstone where she barely spoke and looked at him with such a complete lack of interest. It was also altered from their second meeting when she had castigated him for his reckless riding. Now, she appeared all ease and charm. Perhaps he had not turned her against him irrevocably, after all. Good.
Of course, it was just logical that she might be interested in him as a future husband—he was the heir to a prosperous property—at least, as far as the county knew. And, she likely thought herself a suitable candidate to be mistress of Brentwood, seeing as how she would bring six thousand pounds into the marriage. That kind of money went a long way to dispel any hint of an opportunistic match on her part. He mused over her dark looks. They were not his favorite—he muchpreferred blondes, and while moderately handsome, the girl could never be called a true beauty. Still, they might well make a good and respectable marriage. Besides, once his finances were settled and he retrieved the London town home, he could discreetly entertain women more to his taste as much as he liked with no one the wiser. He wouldn’t be the first such man to have a mistress, after all.
He slowly wandered the room, sipping his drink, assiduously avoiding the one area where he knew bad news waited—his desk, its drawers filled with overdue bills. He had no need to examine them—he knew the extent of the debt to the nearest farthing. And some of the bills were terribly overdue. He needed to paysomethingtoward them, and as soon as possible.
